“Let’s go.” Adam shoved Stuart toward the back yard again where a path led off into the wooded area surrounding Hope Mansion. The secluded location of the mansion was a positive for any residents trying to keep a low profile somewhere safe. But, as they’d discovered just recently, it also made it possible for a sniper to get off a shot while hiding in the woods.
“Why fire that shot and draw attention to yourself?” Stuart glanced over and looked at the man following him, holding a pistol pointed at his back.
He didn’t recognize the guy…or, at least, he didn’t think so. They were about the same age. Same lean build under slightly oversized clothing to hide the definition of his muscles, which would inevitably give away what he wanted to conceal.
Covert tactics had become second nature years ago. Now it was intrinsic. Like the way Stuart could hear a squirrel about fifteen feet to his right, and how he knew it was just him and Adam Eckles right now.
Stuart might have his hands secured behind his back, but he was far from subdued.
“Might as well tell me.” Stuart slowed his pace, just a fraction. He needed Eckles a foot or so closer than he was. “Otherwise this doesn’t make sense. Or does it? I’m already out of the room, closing in on you. Why take that shot and scare a woman?”
“People need to know.” Eckles’s voice had a conversational tone. “No one’s safe. Not anywhere.”
“Agreed. Most of them, nothing but sheeple. Am I right?”
Eckles snorted. “Now we’re bonding.”
“Worth a try. I’m supposed to get you to sympathize with me. Then I’ll use that rapport to get you to doubt your mission here. After that, you’ll be distracted with the worry over your life choices, so you won’t see me slide the knife from your belt and stab you with it. You’ll be bleeding out on the ground before you even realize what’s happened.”
Eckles started to laugh.
Stuart’s next step was a foot plant and a spin. Hands behind his back, he had to settle for a shoulder to the other man’s gun hand. He tackled the guy. They landed on the ground and Eckles let out an “oof.” Stuart shifted his weight, leaned on the man’s diaphragm, and pressed down as hard as he could.
Eckles tried to inhale. He slammed the butt of the gun on the back of Stuart’s shoulder.
“Who sent you?” Stuart let up for a second, dodged a blow to his head, and leaned on him again. “Tell me.”
Eckles struggled. He tried to gasp and Stuart could see he was losing consciousness. How long before he tried to shoot Stuart in the back? Or did he not want to draw attention to them? Now there was an idea. One shot to draw people, and no more—for a clean getaway.
Stuart rolled onto Eckles’s arm, the one holding the gun. Now, on his side, he immobilized the wrist and kicked the other man’s knee. The pop was audible. Eckles bellowed in pain but took the opportunity to punch Stuart with his left hand. Even though he dodged the blow, it still managed to connect. This time with his upper arm.
Stuart gritted his teeth as his hand went numb. “Enough.”
“Cause you know I’ll shoot you.”
“Isn’t that what you came here to do?”
“If I wanted you dead,” Eckles said, “You’d be dead.”
Stuart sat up. “Untie me.”
Eckles barked a laugh. “Yeah, right. You’ll kill me the first chance you get. I know all about you. Thickest file I’ve ever seen.” He blew out a breath. “Oh boy, some of them things you’ve done? Man.” He shook his head. “You’re hardcore. I almost feel bad bringing you in.”
Maybe you should just kill me. Anything would be better than listening to this. “Long time ago.” Stuart climbed to his feet, rumpled and bruised from the fight. But some of the adrenaline was gone. He knew what this guy was made of. What Eckles was prepared to do, or not do.
He blew out a long breath.
“Keep moving.” Eckles swore. “You trashed my knee, you know?”
“You deserved it.”
“Like you don’t deserve more prison time than you’re ever going to get? You deserve more than a quick death, too.”
Stuart didn’t need to be reminded of all the things he had done. He recalled every face of every person he’d ever killed. Guilty and innocent. Now he walked like a man condemned. Even though he still had a million questions. Had Homeland Security really come after him? He had no idea what they were going to accuse him of, but no doubt he’d be given a guilty verdict and sentenced to prison for it.
Or death.
Wouldn’t be the first time. Only, when he’d been re-assigned to that French prison on a mission, he’d been innocent of the crime. All the evidence had been fabricated.
Eckles marched him to the end of the path, where a silver, midsize SUV rental was parked. He was forced to sit on the backseat and twist his hands up. Only when Eckles had used a plastic tie to secure one wrist to the passenger headrest did he remove the cuffs. Stuart twisted around. The gun pressed sharply against his temple. Eckles grabbed his free hand and used a plastic tie on that one also, stacking Stuart’s wrists and giving him zero room to move. It was so tight he could feel it cut into his skin.
Eckles fired up the GPS on his phone and set off. He even put the radio on.
By the time he hit the town, another dot had appeared on the screen of his phone. Now there were two, and one was following the other. The first dot pulled into the parking lot behind the bank. Eckles slowed to take the same turn but instead stopped the car on the far side in a spot obscured by a huge truck with deer antlers on the front and tires that were level with the passenger window.
He put the car in park and sat back, muttering about his knee.
Folded his arms. Closed his eyes.
“What are we doing here?” Stuart looked around. “What are we waiting for?”
Eckles said nothing.
A crackle came through the phone’s speaker, then the sound of a door closing. “Kaylee. I heard what happened.” He paused. “How are you, my dear?”
“I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Nigelson.”
Stuart glanced at Eckles. “You’re the one who cloned her phone.” And hacked her GPS and turned her microphone into a listening device. “And she has no idea.”
“Soon as she comes out, I’ll grab her, and we’ll be on our way.” Eckles shrugged while Kaylee continued to make small talk with the bank manager and his daughter—her friend Trina. Eckles spoke over them, “No harm, no foul.”
Yeah. Stuart had the feeling Kaylee wouldn’t see it that way. She was being targeted by a man he was now sure wasn’t a legit federal agent. Too many times Stuart had impersonated whoever he wanted and gotten away with it. Why couldn’t this guy do the same? Whoever he worked for thought they were above the law. Been there, done that, too.
“Don’t hurt her. She isn’t part of this.”
“Ask her that.” Eckles still hadn’t opened his eyes. “I read her journal. Her brother sent a package, and she’s supposed to hide it.”
Stuart rocked the car he turned so fast. “Brad’s alive?” Was that only wishful thinking?
“Thought you knew what happened. You were there.” Eckles said, “He sent the package before that last mission, though.”
Stuart wasn’t going to tell him captivity had shattered his mind. That there were huge chunks of what happened with Brad that he couldn't remember. Maybe he never would, or maybe his mind kept the secret, knowing he didn’t want to know. Like self-preservation.
Maybe his mind was scared of him, the way everyone else was.
Scared of himself.
Stuart said, “So you’re supposed to bring the two of us to…whoever.”
“And the package.”
Which contained who knows what. Eckles obviously had no idea what it was, or he’d have said. It had to be the person who’d set up Brad and Stuart—the betrayal that led to their capture. No one else would even care. He’d been burned. Brad was who-knew-where—maybe not dead, as he had always believed. Maybe laying low until things calmed down.
“We’re loose ends then. Is that it?” Stuart studied the man’s profile.
He opened his mouth to reply, but Kaylee voice sailed through the phone’s speaker, “I’m just going to take a look at my safety deposit box before I wash up. Then we can eat. If that’s okay with you guys?”
“Of course.” The bank manager sounded so solicitous.
“I’ll pour drinks.” Trina sounded… Stuart didn’t know her at all, so he couldn’t say how she sounded. But it didn’t seem all that genuine, or friendly. All he could glean from was the way she bounced around the gym in tiny shorts and a tight tank top. And how did that tell him anything? She knew all the men only wanted to watch her. Stuart always just looked at the TV instead.
“Thank you.” Kaylee’s voice was polite. Overly polite, as though there was a lot she wanted to say but didn’t feel comfortable enough with them that she could. And Trina was supposed to be her best friend. Seemed like, from Kaylee’s tone of voice, that they weren’t nearly as tight as Trina thought they were.
Worlds apart. Different values and interests. They might have gotten along fine with each other working at the bank, but in life they were two completely different types of women. Could a relationship like that even work?
“Showtime.” Eckles cracked the door. He slammed it behind him, and Stuart watched him tuck the pistol in a holster at the small of his back.
Stuart had to help her. Eckles was going to want to see what she was hiding in that safety deposit box. What on earth had Brad sent to Kaylee anyway?
Kaylee.
Her brother had said her name. Stuart remembered that much. He’d assumed it was to implicate her as one of the people who’d set them up.
But what if the opposite was true.
Stuart’s paranoia might have led him to completely the wrong conclusion. He’d thought she was in on it, and all this time she was the answer. The one with the evidence Brad had collected.
He couldn’t believe he’d been that consumed with his issues that he’d missed the fact she was in danger.
Kaylee needed his help.
Stuart twisted, pulled his foot up to his bound hands, and tried to move his fingers. He winced.
The phone in the cup holder crackled.
“Thank you.” Kaylee’s voice drifted to him as though she spoke to him.
It took a minute of strain and tugging, but he got the pocket knife from his running shoe. He twisted the blade out with his teeth and cut the plastic securing his hands.
The knife tumbled to the carpet by his feet.
“I don’t think—” Kaylee stopped speaking. Through the phone he heard a shuffle, and then, “What are you doing in here?” Fear laced her tone.
Stuart hissed and worked his fingers straight, then made fists. Ouch. “Kaylee.” He shoved the door open and ran to the back door of the bank with the knife in his hand.
He had to get to her.
There was nothing good in him, nothing redeemable. He knew he was too far gone. But if he could save even one innocent that he had put in danger, then it would help his remaining days. He’d be able to gain just a little more peace.
Feet shuffled from both sides. Surrounded. Stuart spun around and came face to face with four cops: Basuto, his partner, another uniformed guy, and Conroy.
“Drop the knife.”
Stuart let go of it. “I have to get inside.”
Conroy said, “Need to make a withdrawal?”